Thinking they know me
to work me
while I know them
and work them
as their Masters do
The molten need casing
for form
otherwise it merely swirls and bubbles
belching incendiary gases
choking back on it selves
in arid sulpheric smokey mist of minds
In this the Master and I know
their Masters give them form
and blows them to do as ordered
no more than toys
I show them
what it's like to be bred well
not forged in a furnace
as pawn pieces for their Masters
They can never know me to work me
they are molten liquid from the furnace
forged, molded and shaped
to work for Masters
They are not self-possessed